Life After Darkness
by Dafina
Summary: The Ministry decides what to do with Lucius after Voldemort's death. Little do they know what secret he is hiding. When Hermione is thrown into the mix, will she help him or destroy him? His and Severus Snape's fate rests in her hands. Will be HG/LM/SS.
1. Chapter 1

Important: This story is filed under LM/HG. While it _is _that, it's also a SS/LM/HG. There really _should_ be an option for more than 2 characters. If ménage a trois squicks you in any way, you might not want to read this. Let this be your warning.

Might as well put a disclaimer here. I don't claim any rights to anything from the Potterverse. I write original fiction and have my own characters to play with. It's just loads of fun to borrow JKR's.

**Life After Darkness**

Chapter 1: The Mocking Cruelty of Fate

Lucius Malfoy sat stiff-backed in the uncomfortable wooden chair that leaned against one of the walls in the small makeshift waiting room. His eyes were slightly downcast, his gaze pointed in the general area of the opposing wall's floorboards. There was a piece of bluish lint on the concrete floor. Perhaps the room had had a blue-grey carpet when it had been used as an office for one of the junior Aurors. Stripped bare of any human comforts, except for the blasted excuse for a chair he was currently sitting in, the room was almost disturbingly barren.

_Not unlike the cells of Azkaban,_ he thought. Though of course, there weren't any Dementors in the newly created Department of Restoration. Four weeks after Voldemort's destruction, it was a wonder Lucius wasn't already back in prison, with the way people who'd either supported or fought with the winning team were practically fighting amongst themselves in their eagerness to make damn sure no dark wizard, or witch for that matter, ever again took it upon themselves to try and take over the entire fucking world. He had been under house arrest ever since the day after Voldemort's demise. When that decision had been made, the Ministry had thought Malfoy Manor was empty. Draco, young as he was, had gotten a clean slate and was living in Ministry funded housing until he could find a job and get on his feet. And it had been over a year since Narcissa had been killed in the battle at Hogwarts that had also resulted in Albus Dumbledore's death. But Lucius was not alone at Malfoy Manor. The manor's other occupant had no idea he was here now. Considering what was at stake, it might have been a good idea for Lucius to tell his guest that his verdict had been reached. For all he knew, he might not be returning to his family home.

There were many, Lucius knew, who would love to see him receive the Dementor's Kiss. And if truth be told, there were no guarantees that would not be his fate. For the first time since arriving in the waiting room close to half an hour ago, Lucius's stomach contracted sharply. They had already taken his wand and seized control of his bank accounts. There was talk that he'd been strangely compliant with the confiscations. The details of his fall from grace were plastered across several front page headlines of the _Daily Prophet, _the printed words almost crowing in triumph. People were laughing at him, mocking him.

And he didn't say so much as one word in response. Lucius swallowed hard. He was such a shadow of what he once had been. If he only had himself to think about, he might have ended it all himself. But Lucius had a secret. His chest tightened painfully when he allowed himself to imagine the Ministry's reaction if they knew what, or more precisely _who_ he was hiding. If that happened . . . two fates would be sealed and decrees of execution would immediately be written.

He couldn't think about what _could _happen. He mustn't. Not when he was minutes away from hearing the Board's decision on his future. The seconds seemed to stretch on for far longer than they should have as he waited to be called into the Ministry's new Review Room.

Finally the door to the waiting room opened and a young female auror with curly blonde hair opened the door.

"Mr Lucius Malfoy, a delegate from the Board will see you now."

Lucius rose rather mechanically from his chair. He vaguely realized he had a rather bad ache in his neck, undoubtedly from all the tension in his body. He walked out of the room and entered the office directly across from it. The new room was decidedly bigger and looked exactly like what it was. A bureaucrat's office, albeit an obsessively organized one. Papers were stacked neatly in plastic bins on top of the wide oak desk. There was a flat calendar on the desk's surface big enough to allow ample room to write several appointments on each day's square. At the top of the desk was a very expensive ink and quill stand with several types of inks and quills neatly contained in its slots. The room's carpet was a midnight blue. There was a large painting on the back wall, a mountaintop scene at sunset with a group of hippogriffs. They appeared to be sleeping though their wings twitched every now and again as proof that they were in a wizard painting. The shadows on the painting were done in tones of blue and grey and matched the carpet well.

While Lucius noticed the room's details, his attention was solely focused on the room's seated occupant. The man was tall with ginger curls and gold-flecked hazel eyes. He was handsome to be sure, but his beauty was more of the effeminate kind a la Gilderoy Lockhart. Lucius hoped the man's character wasn't similar.

The man proceeded to introduce himself. "Mr. Malfoy, my name is Elliot Miller. The Board has reached an unanimous decision. If you agree to comply with our one condition, you will be granted access to all of your money and most of your freedom will be restored. If, in six month's time my reports are satisfactory, you will then be given back your wand."

Lucius looked at the man, surprise not quite showing on his face. Elliot graced him with a small smile.

"If you were hoping to be thrown into the deepest darkest cell Azkaban has to offer for the rest of your natural life, you have only to refuse to sign this contract," he said, gesturing to a piece of expensive parchment in front of him. "And if truth be told, once you hear what the condition is, I'm not entirely sure you will."

Lucius found that his mouth had suddenly gone dry. He opened his mouth to force himself to ask what the one condition was, but Elliot beat him to it.

"In order to gain your freedom in its entirety, you must prove that you can harmoniously exist in post-Voldemort wizarding society. You must never again practise Dark Magic of any kind, but that isn't the main condition of the contract." Elliot looked at Lucius almost appraisingly, carefully hiding any telltale expression as he studied Lucius's face. The look made Lucius wonder what house the man had been in when he'd been at Hogwarts. Just seconds ago, Lucius would have marked him down for Ravenclaw or possibly Hufflepuff. But the look the man was leveling at him now, _that _look was decidedly Slytherin. "Your bigotry is quite legendary, as I'm sure you know. The last thing you'd want to do is have _anything_ to do with a Muggleborn. Would you not say that's so?"

Lucius did not reply to what had so obviously been a rhetorical question.

"We've decided there's only one way for you to prove you're fully capable of reforming. We've noted that it's been over a year since your wife died."

Lucius stared. What the hell did that have to do with this? Elliot sat back in his chair, the black leather creaking slightly as he shifted his weight.

"If you sign this parchment, the Ministry will arrange a new marriage for you."

Lucius blinked twice and suddenly it felt as if the air in his lungs had turned to ice. He looked at Elliot, knowing his shock was apparent on his features. At the moment he couldn't bring himself to care. He wasn't even sure he could bring himself to speak. Was he supposed to say something now? If Elliot was waiting for him to respond, the man was going to be waiting a damn long time.

_Marriage?_ How the devil would _marriage_ prove he could reform? Elliot turned his head slightly to the side, studying Lucius's reaction.

"You're bride will be Muggleborn," he said.

During the next few seconds, Lucius had to remind himself to breathe. His chest had constricted so intensely it was painful. He swallowed hard. He knew he was quickly approaching the point where he was required to do more than stare and look like some kind of gobsmacked fool. He was vaguely aware of a nauseous feeling in the deepest recesses of his stomach but the shock of the Auror's words was too overpowering to allow him to feel much else.

Elliot Miller grimaced slightly. "If you're going to be sick, please refrain from spewing vomit on my carpet. I've always found that even with the most adept cleansing spells the smell lingers for hours."

Lucius forced his body under control. "I'm . . . I'm all right."

Elliot threw him a look that clearly said he didn't necessarily agree. Lucius took a slow, fortifying deep breath and let it out slowly. When he thought he could find his voice he asked, "How precisely would a wife be chosen?"

"As we want to find you a willing bride, an announcement will be posted and any Muggleborn witch of child-bearing age will be able to enter herself into the pool of prospective brides."

_Child-bearing age?!_ Lucius thought. _They wanted him to procreate with this woman?_ He kept any feelings from showing on his face. It wouldn't do for the man seated behind the desk to make note that he displayed negative feelings. Elliot watched his face and Lucius knew he was looking for some kind of bad reaction. The man forged onwards.

"She'll be required to fill out an introductory profile about herself which you'll be able to read after the deadline for entry. The contract establishes that the announcement will be active for a fortnight. If at the end of that span of time, no witches have stepped forward, the contract will be amended to allow for more time. Though somehow," Elliot said, raking his eyes over Lucius's body, "I rather doubt that will be necessary. There are always women willing to marry men such as yourself. I'm sure you'll have more than one woman to pick from."

_Indeed._

"Are the terms of the marriage outlined in the contract?"

Elliot answered by pushing the contract towards Lucius so he could read it. Lucius's scanned the carefully scripted writing on the parchment. It stated that co-habitation with his new wife was mandatory. And he was required to have at least one child with her. At that he felt the nausea creep up again. However it didn't say that he couldn't have a lover outside of the marriage. He let out the breath he hadn't truly even realized he'd been holding._ That _at least was something to be thankful for. However it _did _clearly state that the Board would be visiting his home to make regular progress reports and interview his new bride. In bold lettering it said that if those reports weren't satisfactory Lucius would be sent to prison.

_What kind of wife wouldn't be upset with her husband for having another lover?_

Well, the situation _was _damnably unusual. Perhaps he could find a bride who also had a preferred partner? Though of course that would be next to impossible. The Ministry announcement would certainly only ask that single witches apply to be considered. And they'd probably have spells on the parchment to detect if the witches weren't being truthful. _Damn it all to hell._

Lucius _really _wished he could have refused. His inner discomfort was quickly coalescing into something threateningly close to actual fear, though he'd be damned if he gave anything away in front of Elliot Miller, Senior Auror and member of the new Judgment Board.

_I have no choice._

Wishing for a different option was futile. A third option was as likely to appear as the painted hippogriffs were likely to jump out of the painting and tear Elliot to shreds right before Lucius's eyes.

Lucius reread the contract for about the fourth time. There really was nothing he could do to change his fate. Elliot placed a quill and an open inkwell on top of the desk near the parchment. Lucius made no move to put his signature on the dotted line. Elliot arched a brow.

"Are you going to sign it? Staring at it won't make it change, Lucius."

Lucius met the man's gaze. If the contract was less extreme, Lucius might have been tempted to see if the man could be persuaded to offer him a better deal. But even if Elliot had been willing to _negotiate_, Lucius had to bear in mind that it was not Elliot alone who commanded the Judgment Board.

Without further preamble, Lucius took the quill from the desk, dipped it in the golden ink and legibly signed his name at the bottom of the parchment. As the signature magically glowed when he lifted the quill, Lucius felt his heart stop for a beat. It was done. His fate was sealed.

Elliot rolled up the parchment and stuck it inside a silver tube. He then placed the tube in a wooden container attached to the right side of his desk.

"You'll be informed by owl when we have witches for you to consider. In the meantime, your funds are completely accessible and you may go anywhere you like as long as it isn't Knockturn Alley. Good day to you."

"And to you," Lucius said automatically, not wanting to do anything that would cause the man to think badly of him. He really couldn't afford a bad reputation with the Ministry. Lucius exited the office and also the Ministry building before he Apparated to the front hall of Malfoy Manor.

Now all he had to do was go upstairs and tell the person who was sleeping in his bed that he was going to be marrying again. And unlike him, that person happened to possess a wand.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Inevitable

Lucius entered his bedchamber quietly, his gaze going to the right side of the bed where he fully expected to see a pale skinned, dark haired sleeping body. To his surprise the bed was empty, the layers of covers shoved over to the opposite side. Lucius shut the door behind him and moved to the master bedroom's lavishly expansive bathroom. The door was open and as he crossed the threshold he saw that the enormous gilt bathtub did indeed contain his bed's missing occupant.

"Are you quite certain you are well enough to be out of bed alone?" Lucius asked as he drew nearer to the tub.

The question earned him an indelicate snort in return just before the face of Severus Snape turned to look at him. The man was startlingly pale and the side of his neck bore a large bandage. The white gauze was stained with blood in two spots about four inches apart. Lucius thought the wound was bleeding less than it had the previous week. For those who survived magical snakebites, the healing process was notoriously long. Not to mention painful.

"I'm more than capable of bathing myself without your supervision." Severus said, carefully arching a brow. "Though should you like to join me . . ."

Lucius hesitated, wishing he could somehow justify holding off from informing Severus of the Ministry's decision. Severus's expression turned unnervingly direct.

"What's the matter?"

Lucius did not flinch away from the Potions Master's gaze. He was likely the only person alive who could hold Severus's gaze when the man leveled a glare.

"I've been to the Ministry today, Severus."

"You've been to the Ministry?" Severus asked. "And you decided not to inform me of this fact because? . . ."

"Never mind why I didn't, I've just been told that they've reached a rather frightful decision about my future."

Severus's expression became uneasy.

"They're not sending you back to Azkaban?"

"No." Lucius swallowed. "But given the circumstances, what they did decide could very well be much worse. They're forcing me to marry a Muggleborn."

Severus stared at him and did not immediately speak.

"I fail to see how this shall make you less of a threat to them. How are they rationalising it? Forcing you to marry isn't exactly a logical method of persuading you to cooperate with them."

"They seem to think it is."

Severus let out a snort. The man could truly put a thousand words into one disdainful sound.

"An advert is being run in the _Prophet_, all young women interested in being the next Mrs. Malfoy are to write in and enter themselves into a pool from which I'll pick the most interesting witch."

Severus made a small noise in reply, acknowledging that he'd heard Lucius's words. Lucius sat down on a green marble bench along the wall.

"When?" Severus asked at length.

"Perhaps a little over a fortnight."

"That's not much time," Severus said softly, just loud enough for Lucius to hear.

Lucius was acutely aware of the uncomfortable silence that followed Severus's words. He would have broken it immediately, if he had something to say that might have changed the mood. As it was, he could think of nothing. After a few minutes Lucius looked up from staring at the black tiled floor. He watched Severus, who was reclining rather luxuriously in the damn near pool sized tub. His eyes were lightly closed and he looked convincingly like he hadn't a single care in all the world. Lucius wished he could so easily feign carefree nonchalance.

Lucius's eyes remained fixed upon the Potions Master's body, the angle at which he was seated and Severus's position affording him quite a stimulating view. He wondered if Severus had meant to relax in such a provocative manner. The man was ever so difficult to figure out . . .

Suddenly, Severus laughed softly, he raised his gaze to Lucius and Lucius gave him a strange look in return. Really, what reason was there to laugh?

A grim smile graced Severus's lips. "All my life, I've never been able to keep a single personal attachment. I suppose it's to be my very own curse. Despite surviving Voldemort's defeat, I have no freedom to live the life of my choosing. I've known very few people whom I can honestly say I had a close relationship with. Over the years I've lost every single one. You're the only person left on this earth who cares if I continue to live. Now, I shall lose you as well. Come now, you have to admit you see the humour in it."

"You _aren't_ going to lose me," Lucius told him resolutely.

Severus looked at him and didn't immediately speak. It seemed that the normally eloquent Potions Master was nearly at a loss for what to say.

"No?" he asked quietly. "Do please tell me how we are to maintain our present intimacy when your buxom bride enters the house. If you can come up with something that doesn't sound utterly absurd, I'll believe that we might have a chance at a future." Severus silently challenged Lucius with his eyes to do as he said.

An odd lump lodged itself in Lucius's throat and he almost had to look away from Severus's gaze.

"Don't do this to me now, Severus. You've made great progress since the night that snake bit you. But you aren't nearly as strong as you should be to think about leaving the Manor. If I thought you could get by, I'd suggest that we leave now and settle somewhere in Muggle society. But I have no experience with the non-magical world. I may be quick learner, but I know I couldn't hope to master the customs and nuances of society convincingly enough to properly function fast enough to help support you while you continue to recuperate."

"_You _would live without magic for me?"

Lucius smiled a little. "It is shocking, I know. But if you don't know what you mean to me by now, maybe you'll finally understand how far I'm willing to go to keep you with me."

Severus absorbed this information stoicly. There was no outward signs of emotion on his face, as with anything that shocked him he always tried to maintain a cautious mask of cool neutrality. Yet if you looked deep enough into his eyes . . . There was definitely something there that spoke volumes of his true feelings. Lucius smiled a little more.

"We'll make things work. Do you trust me?"

"You know I do."

"Then besides the two of us being together, that's the only thing that truly matters. Now, you know Kingsley Shacklebolt. How likely would you say it'd be that he'd accept a rather nice sum of money in exchange for giving me a better ruling?"

"What the man would do as an Auror and what he'd do as Minister aren't necessarily one and the same. If I recall correctly, he has a fondness for German wine. But I don't think you should attempt anything illegal for rather obvious reasons."

Lucius sighed heavily.

"I suppose I could make an appointment and present my case to him. How did you and he get on? If I told him the truth would he make a concession?"

Severus considered the question briefly.

"I honestly don't know. He and I talked on occasion. Apparently he has a hobbyist's interest in potions and said he knew of some suppliers in Africa I hadn't heard about that dealt in ingredients for dream altering potions. Besides knowing he could be a good conversationalist, I don't know enough about him to accurately predict how he'd react to news about me."

"He's the only one who can go over the Judgment Board's head, or at least influence them to reconsider."

"If you see him, I want you to be careful of what you tell him. Gauge his reaction to your presence first and don't divulge any life-threatening secrets if it's anything less than favourable. I'd rather you not say anything to the man at all, considering the severity of the situation. You know, if you were serious about living in the Muggle world, I think I could force myself to manage some sort of low-labour job until you could gain your confidence in society. There are businesses willing to hire homosexuals in order to promote equality."

"If I thought that was feasible, I'd be all for it. However, I think you're forgetting that even now you can barely walk twenty feet at a normal pace. You aren't going to heal any faster in the Muggle world. Besides, how would you explain away the rather obvious wound on your neck? That you had a giant pet snake and one day it suddenly decided to be rather disagreeable? Didn't you tell me once that Muggle boa constrictors and pythons don't have the kind of fangs that secrete venom? You can tell from the size of the wound how big the snake was. Muggles would be suspicious."

Severus didn't immediately respond. "I could try to hide it with magic."

"A wound that severe? You really think it would work?"

"No, but then I might be surprised."

"I think, seeing as how I'm no longer under house arrest, I shall return to the Ministry now and make an appointment to see the new Minister as soon as possible. That's appears to be our best option."

"I suppose you're right." Lucius didn't miss the hollow note in Severus's tone. He forced himself to ignore it. Things were going to work out, even if he had to beat them down and strangle them half to death to get them to do so.

Lucius rose and walked over to the tub. He held out his hand for Severus to take. Severus eyed it rather unhappily.

"Is this really necessary? You do realise you're making me feel two or three times my age? I'm hardly light-headed anymore and I do know to take care with my movements."

Lucius made no move to withdraw his hand. "Humour me."

Severus put his hand in Lucius's and allowed Lucius to help support his weight as he slowly stood up in the bathtub. Lucius then offered Severus both hands and waited while Severus shifted his weight while holding onto him and gingerly stepped out of the tub. Once he was satisfied that Severus could stand on his own, Lucius deftly plucked a towel from the rack and gave it to Severus. Lucius noticed that Severus was slightly out of breath.

Of course being out of breath was preferable to not breathing at all, which was the state Severus was in when Lucius found him during the battle. Severus gently toweled himself dry and then loosely wrapped the towel around his hips. Severus began to walk out of the bathroom without Lucius's help.

Lucius kept a watchful eye on Severus and walked next to him as he made his way into the bedroom. He was able to reach the side of the bed and sit down without Lucius's help. Once seated, he dried himself off a bit more with the towel and then handed the towel to Lucius.

"Can I get you anything before I go? Some tea? Something to eat?"

"No, I think I'll eat and drink something when you return."

Lucius moved closer to Severus. "Perhaps you can give me something then?"

Severus lips turned up in a very small, but very genuine smile.

"A kiss for luck?" Severus asked and Lucius leaned down while Severus raised his hand to the side of Lucius's head and brought his lips to Lucius's mouth. Severus kissed him slowly, with a searing heated passion that bespoke of familiarity. Lucius let Severus guide the kiss, moving his lips in response to Severus's intensity. Severus urged Lucius to open his mouth further and swept his tongue against Lucius's, teasing and caressing while Lucius brought a hand to Severus's wet hair. Their movements were slow and unhurried and it was a fair moment before Severus brushed his lips over Lucius's lingeringly and broke the kiss.

"I'll return as soon as I can."

A/N: Unlike the books, no one knows that Severus didn't murder Dumbledore in cold blood. That's why he's hiding out at Malfoy Manor. The Wizarding World thinks Severus is dead, we'll get into why that's so a little later on. But right now, it's certainly in his best interest for Magical Britain to think he's no longer alive.

As always, thanks for reading!

-Dafina


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Conversations Part 1

The newly appointed Minister of Magic's office truly looked like a tornado had recently blown through it. Papers were everywhere on the desk and were piled in large groups upon the hardwood parquet floor. Kingsley Shacklebolt sat in a very Muggle looking swivel chair and eyed the mess as if he half expected it to physically attack him. _Really,_ _if he received even one more envelope . . ._ He ran a hand over his smooth head. If he'd had any hair, he might have been at serious risk of tearing some of it out. His worst days at the office when he'd been an Auror were nothing compared to this. He swiveled around in his chair slowly, taking in the sea of envelopes and parchment. His stomach sank as he thought about what more than half of the papers contained: purely inane and utterly pointless bureaucratic shit. He shuddered inwardly. If he thought about _that_ long enough, it might be enough to make him run from his office, screaming like a frightened child.

At least the paper work in the Auror Department had a purpose. And while he was sure _some _of the items were legitimately important, it looked like he was going to have to go through them all to see which ones actually needed (and deserved) his attention. _There should be rules against this sort of thing, _he thought glumly. If he'd had his assistant . . . Official rules stated that anything personally addressed to the Minister of Magic could only be opened and read by the Minister of Magic himself. Kingsley snorted half-heartedly. Like _secrecy _was really necessary here. He'd already opened quite a few to find some curiously bizarre inquiries up to and including vulgarly blatant propositions from Wizarding Britain's best brothels. Did every new Minister get such a welcome? Perhaps he should keep one of the more interesting offers for when he finally made it through the rest of his mail. But even if he did give himself an incentive to tackle his paper mountains, he doubted it would help him get done with things any faster. It took all of two seconds to decide whether he needed to keep a letter, and whether he needed to give a reply. Multiply that by _oh, I don't know a million?_ Kingsley glared at the envelopes sitting closest to him on the desk. He needed help. An unofficial assistant then? Now there was an idea. If he could find someone that would be willing to help him without getting paid, and hell he'd be more than willing to buy someone dinner, . . . it would go a long way to ensuring that he'd get out of this office sometime before he turned forty.

All Kingsley needed now was a cup of strong black coffee. If he was going to get through the next few hours, he was going to have a healthy dose of caffeine first.

* * * * *

Lucius eyed the reception area of the Minister's office a little warily. There weren't as may people as he'd thought there'd be at eleven in the morning. A handful of Ministry officials were dropping off folders at the main desk in the atrium. A prismatic glass ceiling stretched three stories above the polished white marble floor. The most surprising thing was that the row of gold and white leather benches along the wall was empty. Lucius approached the wide semi-circular desk.

The receptionist, a tiny slip of a woman with blue eyes and straight black hair, looked up at the approaching sound of Lucius's boots on the marble floor. Lucius watched her eyes widen noticeably in recogition.

"Mister Malfoy," she said, "How can I help you?"

"I'd like to speak with the Minister as soon as possible, please."

The receptionist picked up a clip-board practically filled to the breaking point with sheets of cream paper. She made a show of flipping through the papers.

"I'm afraid his meeting times are booked solid for the next six weeks."

Lucius felt his stomach sink. It was just his luck, really.

The woman looked up at him. "Perhaps if there's a cancellation, . . ."

Her expression was the very picture of fake sincerity. Lucius knew damn well that there wouldn't be any cancellations and even on the off chance there was one, _he'd_ be the very last person to be asked to fill the open time slot. He forced himself not to sneer, schooling his features into a carefully non-threatening mask.

Lucius was just about to tell her not to bother recording his request to speak with Shacklebolt when the man himself walked into the hallway. First seeing him out of the corner of his eye, Lucius did not make the first move at eye-contact. As the black man stopped short almost comically just outside his office door, Lucius knew he now had the man's attention. Kingsley resumed walking, heading for the desk. His expression was one that could only be considered amicably curious.

"Lucius," Kingsley said as he drew near. "What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

Lucius smoothly met the man's gaze. Kingsley was perhaps an inch taller than he. Lucius acted as if it were the other way around.

"It would please me greatly to have a private word," he said. "I'm told you have no openings for the next six weeks."

"You're in luck then, for that's not strictly true. If you have time right now, I think I can accommodate you into my schedule."

"That suits me just fine, Minister."

"I was on my way to get some fresh coffee, would you like a cup before we sit down?"

While Lucius wasn't particularly fond of coffee, he accepted Kingsley's offer. He didn't want to do anything that might possibly give offense. This was his one and only chance to repeal the Judgment Board's decision.

Kingsley gestured for Lucius to follow him. "Right this way, then."

As Lucius moved away from the desk, he shot the receptionist a pointed look of victory. Before she disappeared from his vision, he noticed that she shrank back from his gaze. Lucius smiled to himself behind the Minister's back.

It seemed his luck might have turned after all.

Kingsley led Lucius past his office door around a corner and into a large comfortable conference room. There were plush chairs upholstered in deep purple velvet and an old, yet remarkably fine, lion footed table made out of dark wood. Kingsley shut the door after ushering Lucius ahead of him.

"Please, have a seat," Kingsley told him.

Lucius did so and watched as Kingsley moved to a much smaller table against the wall where a very Muggle looking coffee maker sat, along with glass containers of sugar and cream. There was a shelf beneath the table that held several plain white coffee cups. Kingsley took two and poured a healthy dose of steaming black coffee into each.

"Do you take cream or sugar?" Kingsley asked Lucius, turning his head inquiringly.

"I wouldn't say no to a bit of cream, please."

Kingsley returned to Lucius with the coffee and sat down next to him.

"So," said Kingsley. "What's the matter?"

"Have you seen the latest ruling from the Judgment Board, Minister?"

Kingsley's stomach lurched slightly. No, he certainly hadn't seen it. His office was so inundated with documents that he'd be damned if he knew what papers were from what days and which ones needed his attention the most. One would think that the Ministry would mark important documents with an easily recognizable color. But no, in all their newfound paranoia to prevent anything like war from breaking out over wizarding Britain again, officials had decreed that "sensitive information" would remain anonymously unobtrusive. They said it was to prevent important documents from reaching the wrong hands. In short, it made Kingsley quite keen to throttle several "official" necks. He looked Lucius in the eyes, trying to keep his embarrassment out of his face.

"No, I haven't. My office is quite literally flooded with documentation at the moment. When was the ruling?"

"This morning."

"I see. Well, Mr. Malfoy, I can leave and try to locate the envelope or if you don't mind I'll let you tell me what was said."

Lucius gave the Minister of Magic a carefully aimed look. He was caught off guard a little that Shacklebolt would trust him at his word. Of course, the official documentation whenever Shacklebolt managed to find it, would be the final authority.

"They've decreed that I remarry. This time it has to be a Muggleborn."

Kingsley didn't immediately say anything. He sipped his coffee slowly, considering Lucius's words. When at last he set his mug down, one of his eyebrows rose in question.

"And you find this request too offensive for you to comply?" he asked.

"I don't think I'd put it quite like that, Minister." Lucius stopped, uncharacteristically unable to find the right words to proceed.

Kingsley instantly picked up on the other man's discomfort.

"Something else you wish to tell me, Malfoy?"

Lucius felt distinctly uncomfortable under Shacklebolt's gaze. He was trying his level best not to show it, but he could already feel his neck growing hot. He hoped to hell his face wasn't red.

He opened his mouth. "There's a reason I don't want to marry again."

"You mean you have a girlfriend," Shacklebolt said conversationally. Lucius swallowed hard and hesitated to respond. Shacklebolt took another fortifying sip of coffee.

"Not a girlfriend," Lucius said just loud enough for Shacklebolt to hear. At this the Minister's eyebrow rose a little higher.

"Ah. A male lover then," said Kingsley. The look on Lucius's face was enough to confirm the statement. Kingsley went on, "I can see how that complicates things."

"I think 'complicates' is an understatement," said Lucius. "I've just given you a reason to have me killed."

"Honestly Lucius, I hardly think your sexuality's a crime. I wish I could tell you I'll be able to just personally overturn the Judgment Board's ruling and let you live your life however you see fit. As long as it doesn't interfere with the safety of society."

Lucius gave Kingsley a steady gaze. "I know I've done some quite reprehensible things in my time, but as shallow and empty as this sounds, I truly want to leave that in the past."

"I believe you. Unfortunately in your case, my opinion doesn't necessarily matter."

"That's it then?" Lucius asked softly. "There's nothing you can do to change things?"

"I'm afraid there isn't. You know full well that many people would say that your choice of partner only serves to irrefutably cement your status as a Dark Wizard."

"That's why I'm here. I can't risk marrying a woman who would feel that way. If she found out and reported it to the Judgment Board . . ."

"You and your partner will be given the Dementor's Kiss or otherwise executed," said Kingsley hollowly. He blew out a forceful sigh. "I don't envy you your situation. If I thought there was a way to make them change their minds without letting them know the real reason for your reluctance . . . You don't want them as your enemy, Lucius. Give them a reason and they'll be more than happy to destroy you. My advice to you is to do everything in your power to not draw attention to yourself. Right now, you need to do as they say. And in order to do that you need a bride who is sympathetic to your situation."

Lucius had to work hard to fight back to the urge to roll his eyes. He had to take a breath before trying to speak to keep his anger from his voice.

"Forgive me, Minister, but tell me where I can find a witch who won't mind that her husband shares a bed with another man. Perhaps I've been remiss in my interactions with the fairer sex since my wife died. Last I checked, any normal woman would be seriously irritated at best and intensely angry at worst. But maybe you know something I don't."

Kingsley didn't immediately respond. Lucius sipped his coffee, staring at the cup stonily. He refrained from leveling his glare in the black man's direction.

"Your partner," Kingsley said at length. "What is his opinion of Muggleborns?"

Lucius stared at Kingsley. "He's quite tolerant of them."

"He wouldn't try to hurt a Muggleborn witch? Even if she was your wife?"

"No." Lucius told him honestly.

"And if you got married to a suitable witch, you'd treat her well and give her the attention she deserves?"

"Provided that she was agreeable to me sharing my time between her and my male partner? I'd give her anything she could think to ask for."

Kingsley nodded.

"If I somehow found a witch for you to meet, would you have time to talk to her today?"

Lucius blinked dumbly. "Pardon me?"

Kingsley merely smiled. He glanced at the clock on the wall. "Well, would you?"

"What are you going to do, conjure her out of thin air?"

"Not quite. She has an appointment to see me in ten minutes. I told her I'd give her a few letters of recommendation for Uni. I think I might be able to get her to talk to you. Are you game?"

Lucius leveled a suspicious look at Shacklebolt. What was he agreeing to?

"I suppose," he said carefully.

"Excellent," said Kingsley. "I'll go wait for her. Please help yourself to more coffee."

And with that Kingsley slipped out of the room before Lucius could ask any more questions. Lucius stared rather uncomfortably into his half-empty cup of coffee. If the witch was completing university applications, that meant she was probably around Draco's age. Old enough for him to consider, he supposed, but really, what was Shacklebolt thinking? Had she attended Hogwarts?

For some bizarre reason, Lucius had a vision of Shacklebolt introducing him to Potter's best friend, Hermione Granger. He nearly laughed out loud at the very thought, in no small part from the imagined reaction that Severus might have if he knew Lucius was considering her for marriage.

Lucius sighed. He'd just have to wait and see who came through the door with Shacklebolt when he returned.

A/N: We all know it's going to be Hermione. But what is her reaction going to be?


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione walked into the Minister's office fully expecting to get his signature on a few pieces of parchment and be on her way again within fifteen minutes. Little did she know how erroneous that assumption was.

She approached the marble reception desk. The receptionist looked up from the notes she was making.

"He's expecting you, I'm sure, but I'm not positive that he's in his office."

"Oh. Should I have a seat then?" Hermione asked.

"You might want to. Lucius Malfoy has been talking to him for the last quarter of an hour and I'm sure he hasn't left yet. Sit down and I'll tell the Minister you're here."

Hermione took a seat on one of the room's cushioned benches. What was Lucius Malfoy doing here? Having his name all but ruined beyond repair, one would think the man would keep a low profile. Was he back to his old tricks of coercion? _Surely not,_ thought Hermione. _That man may be many things, but suicidally stupid isn't one of them._

Hermione wasn't sitting for more than a minute when the witch returned and motioned for her to head on to Shacklebolt's office. Still, Hermione knocked anyway when she reached the office door.

"Come in," Kingsley called. As Hermione opened the door, she found she had to swallow a little squeak of shock. The entire surface area of the room was blanketed in a sea of various types of parchment. Kingsley was straightening papers around where he was sitting, but stopped when Hermione made her attempt at approaching his desk. She knew that obviously many of these letters were bureaucratic nonsense, but didn't want to tramp across them as she crossed the room, just the same. As she carefully lifted and placed her feet on the scant few patches of bare carpeting, she couldn't help but be reminded of the tests that she and Ron helped Harry through in their first year before he reached the Mirror of Erised.

"Hermione. I've been expecting you," Kingsley told her as she traversed her way past the halfway point to his desk. "You know you really don't need to mind your footsteps so much. More than half of this has no importance."

"Have you gone through everything?" she asked.

"No, of course not."

"Then it would be just my luck that I stepped on the one parchment out of this mess that _was _important. And as official documents usually have some sort of charm making them impossible to alter, that same charm usually prevents them from being repaired by magic. A fat lot of good it would do to have some official document get ruined by my foot."

"Point taken. How are you doing today?"

"Bit busy I suppose, other than that not so bad. Thought about registering for an introductory summer course at St. Ferrington University, I'm told they have a fabulous Charms Department, but I don't think I will now. My mum and dad are a little clingy after everything's that happened, and I'm sure they'd rather I stay at home for the summer. I was going to have you sign nine letters of recommendation but I managed to pare it down to five."

Now in front of the Minister's mahogany desk, Hermione took a cloth bag off her shoulder, opened the flap and took out a little stack of parchment neatly paper clipped together. She handed it out to Kingsley. When he didn't move to take it after a few seconds, she politely cleared her throat.

"Er, . . Minister Shacklebolt?" she asked tentatively.

The man sighed at her overly formal mode of address. He looked at her levelly, keeping his expression open and direct. Now, what to say?

"Hermione, before I take care of those letters, I'd like to discuss something with you." There, that was casual and non-threatening.

Hermione arched a brow. "All right." She set the papers on top of the desk.

"Do you remember that conversation we had over tea late at night when everyone was staying at Grimmauld Place two summers ago?"

"We were discussing the redemption of certain Death Eaters."

"Namely Lucius Malfoy, if I recall correctly," Kingsley told her.

"I told you that when I saw him for the first time, despite his aura of dark magic I sensed a partially pure soul. And I've never told anyone else that, Kingsley, because if I did even Harry and Ron would never believe me."

Kingsley nodded elegantly. "He's here now."

"Still? Your secretary said something about you meeting with him."

"He came to ask me for help, actually."

"Oh? What sort of help?"

Kingsley kept a steady gaze on Hermione. She gave him a strange look.

"Listen to what I have to say, all right?"

"Okay."

"It seems the new department dealing with the sentencing of Death Eaters has decided that Lucius get a new chance at living in free society as long as he finds himself a Muggleborn wife within the next two weeks."

Hermione's eyes widened noticeably, but she didn't say anything.

"What if I told you Lucius has a rather unique situation that prevents him from finding a suitable witch within the general population?"

"I think I'm afraid to hear more, but you'll just continue anyway. All right, I'll bite, what's his _unique situation_?"

"It seems he has an intimate companion who happens to be another man."

"He's gay?"

"Well no, I rather doubt he's entirely disinterested in women."

Hermione let out a delicate snort.

"Will you _please _go and talk to him?" Kingsley asked.

"What? Are you barking mad? What do you want me to do, go and tell him to marry me?"

"I don't think you have to be quite that forward."

Hermione's eyes widened further.

"You do! My god, you _seriously _think I should entertain the idea of _marrying _Lucius Malfoy!"

"If he doesn't find a wife, he'll be sent back to Azkaban, quite possibly until the day he dies."

"That really shouldn't be my problem."

"Come now, Hermione. Don't refuse out of hand. There are worse men you could marry. Do you want to see him go back to prison, knowing you had the power to prevent it?"

"Don't try to make me feel guilty! How do you _know_ there aren't other witches who would be sympathetic to his _unique situation_?"

"His wife will be required to make reports on his behaviour. Someone else won't hesitate to blow the whistle on him for being unfaithful. I'm afraid more especially so if they find out he was with another man."

Hermione didn't say anything. She knew what Kingsley said was true. She remained silent for quite some time.

"What are the terms of the marriage?" She couldn't believe she was actually asking the question, even as the words left her lips. Somehow she had a feeling she could guess at least one of the stipulations.

"You'll be required to live with him. He'll be required to treat you like a princess, and after six months you'll be expected to conceive a child."

The breath left Hermione's lungs in a sudden whoosh of air. She blinked a couple times.

"_Did you just say the word child!?"_

Kingsley nodded calmly. "Yes."

Forcing herself to recover quickly, Hermione leaned forward on Kingsley's desk.

"Excuse me, but what makes you think I wish to have a child? How dare you even think to ask me something so outrageous when I'm going off to University in a couple of months!? Honestly, Shacklebolt, what on earth is wrong with you?oHoH"

"Hermione, _please. _Listen to me._"_

_"Oh, what now?"_

"Whether you married Lucius or not, it may very well come to the point where you'll be required to have a child anyway."

"I beg your pardon? You better not be trying to have me on, Shacklebolt or mark my words you'll be quite sorry."

"I would never do such a thing! Look, I'm honestly not supposed to speak about this, but given the circumstances I think you have a right to know that the Wizengamot is seriously considering putting a marriage law into place."

"A marriage law."

"Unfortunately, they seem to be dead set on strengthening the ties of Muggleborns and Purebloods by forcing hand-picked couples into matrimony. It's quite nauseating to contemplate, if you ask me, it all amounts to an elite breeding program that's really not that different from something you'd do for dogs or horses."

"_I see._ And when might this _program _go into effect?"

"Right around six months from now."

Hermione looked into the Minister's eyes, feeling slightly light headed as she absorbed this new tidbit of information.

"You see," Kingsley said. "It'll be a lot better for you if you can marry someone you know will treat you with respect and decency. I know Malfoy will own up to his end of the bargain. He'll make a better husband than half of the potential men you could be paired with. I can guarantee he won't hurt you."

Hermione tensed as she took in what Kingsley was talking about. She thought about what might happen if she were married against her will to a man who hated Muggleborns. An image of her being beaten and raped flashed into her mind and she shuddered at the horrible thought.

"Oh, God. I think I'm going to be sick."

Kingsley sat a trash bin next to her, but the wave of nausea passed almost as quickly as it had come.

"Will you talk to Lucius now? Please? If I can be frank, I'd feel better knowing that you're safe and out of harm's way if things go as they look like they're going to."

"What am I supposed to say to him, exactly?" Hermione asked quietly. "Somehow, 'Hullo, Mr. Malfoy, would you like to marry me?' doesn't sound right."

Kingsley's lips twitched into a small smile. "Then say whatever does sound right." He rose from his seat and walked Hermione out of his office. He led her to a door a few steps down the hall.

Hermione's stomach did a flip as Kinglsey put his hand on the doorknob, ready to admit her into the room.

"I'm not sure I can do this," she said under her breath.

"You can. Find that famous Gryffindor bravery."

_Right, _thought Hermione. After all, she'd been in far worse situations than this in her time. She took a steadying breath, remembering her encounter with the Mountain Troll in her first year. Compared to that, this was a piece of cake.

_Yeah, you're just offering yourself as a bride to Lucius Thrice Damned Bloody Malfoy._

Well, she couldn't stand in this hallway all afternoon. If she didn't go in, Lucius was likely to come out of the room to see what was going on.

She looked at Kingsley and gave him a small nod. Her decision made, she was determined to face the situation with as much composure as she could manage to muster.

Unfortunately, in the presence of Lucius Malfoy she wasn't convinced there was much composure to be had.

Especially when she stood before him as the potential mother of his child. With that thought at the forefront of her mind Hermione walked into the room.

**A/N:** Sorry for the long wait. Real Life got in the way. I hope for the next chapter to be longer. : )


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